Who Watches the Watch?
by Badge177
Summary: City Watch Murder Mystery: Commander Sir Samuel Vimes faces one of the hardest cases of his career... Non-slash, standalone story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All Discworld characters belong to Terry Pratchett. I own nothing. I'm just inspired to write stuff Mr. Pratchett isn't likely to. No disrespect is intended.

**Who Watches the Watch?**

**Chapter 1**

Captain James Noakes, City Watch, was making his way home. He savoured finishing his shift on winter evenings. Yes, it was cold, but at this time of year Ankh-Morpork always seemed fresh and still. And best of all, it was _peaceful_.

He passed a beggar and dropped a few coins into his hat. "You should go home," he said, "there's no one else around."

The old man raised milky eyes and chuckled, "there's always you, kind sir..."

Noakes grinned and walked on.

Across the street, a couple slipped down an alleyway. Noakes had always wondered about the attraction of alleys. There were better places to court a young lady, surely? Not that he was an expert on the subject. Most likely it was someone playing the field. Which wasn't against the law... so it wasn't his concern.

A gasp escaped the alley...

Noakes walked on.

And then, a sudden "_No...!_"

Noakes hesitated...

And then, a scream.

Noakes ran back.

_Now_ it was his concern!

High above the alley, an upstairs window opened. A woman's head poked out – alerted by the scream and the commotion below. In the gloom of the alley it took her a while to make out what was happening. And then it became clear… and she saw the dead woman, and the watchman standing over her holding a bloodied knife.

A second scream pierced the night.

"_MURDER_!"

-o0o-

Commander Vimes looked across the dining table at his wife. Her auburn hair was glowing like fire in the candlelight. He'd given Willikins, the butler, the night off; stoked up the fire and locked all the doors. Nights like this were rare and he was determined to make the most of it. Sybil smiled as his hand slid across the table. She slipped her hand into his... and someone rapped on the door.

"Oh, for the love of—"

Sybil tried not to look disappointed. "I'll wait while you answer it, Sam."

Vimes got up and went to the door. It was Carrot, looking more earnest than usual. Vimes scowled at him and slipped outside, partly closing the door behind him.

"Carrot, I thought I told you to—"

"Yes, sir, I know you did. But I thought you'd want to know about this, sir."

"This had better be good, Carrot."

"No, sir, it's awful. A woman's been murdered, sir. And the killer is a _watchman_."

-o0o-

Vimes' mind reeled as he and Carrot made their way back to the Watch House.

"Noakes?" said Vimes. "A _murderer_?"

"Yes, sir," said Carrot. "We have a witness who said she saw everything, sir."

"Drunk, was she?"

"Oh no, sir! Edna Winslow is a reliable member of the community."

_Oh yes, _thought Vimes, we have _lots_ of them...

"She said she heard voices outside, sir, and then a woman's scream. And when she looked out, she said Noakes and the woman were, er..."

"Were what, Carrot?"

"Embracing, sir."

"_Embracing_?"

"Yes, sir. But she said the woman didn't appear, um... willing, sir."

"_Willing_? Willing to do what?"

"We'll probably never know, sir. That's when Noakes stabbed her."

Word of the killer watchman had got around fast. By the time Vimes and Carrot had reached the Watch House, a crowd was already gathering outside. The questions started flying as soon as the pair appeared.

"What are you gonna do about this, Commander Vimes?" a voice demanded.

Vimes didn't bother looking at the speaker. "Well, we'll investigate, of course," he said.

"What's the point?" the voice insisted. "You already know who the killer is."

"No. We _don't_. All we have is one woman's word."

"And you'd rather believe one of your own, eh? Even if he's a killer?"

Vimes turned now and looked at the speaker. _Walby Birkett_.

"No, I just want the truth," said Vimes.

"And meanwhile, we got a killer loose in our city?"

_Our_ city, Vimes noted. "Walby, we'd have a killer loose in our city anyway. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather we hang the _right_ man."

Vimes pushed his way past him and made his way into the Watch House.

"How long's that lot been out there?" he growled at Colon, who appeared to have shrunk somewhat behind his high desk.

"Not long, sir. They seem a bit agitated, though, don't they, sir?"

"Well, they can remain agitated outside, Fred. No one's to come in here unless they've got useful information, you understand?"

"Perfectly, sir."

Vimes took the stairs to his office two at a time. "Come on, Carrot!"

Carrot followed, gathering the necessary paperwork on the way.

"Right," said Vimes, when Carrot had closed the door. "What do we have?"

"Well, we have a dead woman, sir – stabbed – and one witness who said she saw Noakes kill her."

"Then all we really have is a dead woman."

"_And_ a witness, sir."

"Murder weapon?"

"No, sir. Noakes must have taken the knife with him."

"You still think _Noakes_ did this, Carrot?"

"Well, the evidence does suggest—"

"_What_ evidence? We don't have anything except a dead woman!"

"Well, that and the fact that Noakes has done a runner, sir..."

Vimes fell into his chair.

"All right..." He struggled to take it all in. "If he panicked, that would be his first thought, naturally. But that only means he's scared, Carrot. It doesn't mean he's a killer."

"Well, we'll still need to find him, sir."

"Yes, Carrot, we will. And we'll need to find him fast. Because _I_ want to find out who really killed that woman."

-o0o-

Nobby peered from a Watch House window. "There's more of 'em out there now, Fred..."

"Nobby, I _told_ you to come away!"

"I'm trying to hear what they're saying..." Nobby craned his neck. "They think he did it, Fred."

"Well, maybe he did..."

"Fred! You can't really think that?"

"It don't matter what I think, Nobby. We have to deal with facts. And the fact is, the witness swears she saw him do it, and now he's done a runner. Innocent men don't run, Nobby, they give themselves up."

"I don't think he did it, Fred..."

"No, well, you haven't seen all the things _I've_ seen, have you?"

Nobby pondered this; Sergeant Colon was a Man of the World. "I've seen him be kind to Errol, Fred..."

Colon scoffed. "So he likes animals." He lowered his voice and looked around conspiratorially. "But we both know he don't like _wimmin_."

-o0o-

Vimes drummed his fingers on his desk. "Damn. We need more witnesses, Carrot."

"There's already men on it, sir."

"_Which_ men? I want people on this I can trust, Carrot!"

"Sir?"

"Well, you know, people who aren't... biased in any way. Against Noakes, I mean."

"They're _all_ good men, sir," said Carrot reproachfully, "And one woman."

"Angua's on this? Good... good." Vimes continued to drum his fingers. "What about Cheery?"

"On her way as we speak, sir."

"Right. I want to investigate that scene myself, too. _And_ speak to our witness. I'm determined to get to the bottom of this, Carrot. I want the truth – _whatever_ it turns out to be."

-o0o-

Sergeant Angua prowled the scene. The witness had been telling the truth. Captain Noakes _had_ been here recently.

So had about a score of other people...

The multicolour display was bewildering, but it was nowhere near as bad as the reek.

Amid the time-honoured concoction of urine and vomit, she could detect... _Anger... Fear..._ and_ Blood_.

Well, those weren't totally unexpected.

But there was something else. Something she didn't usually find at crime scenes...

_Sadness_?

-o0o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Who Watches the Watch**

**Chapter 2**

Vimes got up from his desk. "All right. Get word to Angua and tell her to stay where she is. I'm coming to join her."

"Yes, sir. Meanwhile, I'll start the man-hunt."

"The man-hunt?"

"The search for Noakes, sir."

"Carrot, he's only wanted for _questioning_. We can't be sure yet if he's committed a crime."

"Right, sir. And I think I'll ask a few questions around the city myself, sir. And I'll send some of our dwarf officers underground."

"Underground?"

"Yes, sir. We can't assume Noakes won't enter the sewers, sir. It's the perfect place to hide."

"No. No, of course not."

"And Cheery should already be at work on the body..."

"She should?"

"Yes, sir, as instructed... Which only leaves our witness to pick up, sir. I don't think I've left anything out, sir, have I?"

"No, Carrot. I think you've covered just about everything."

"Jolly good," said Carrot.

_Yes_, thought Vimes. _Jolly good_.

-o0o-

When Vimes arrived at the scene, Angua had already changed back into human form. She acknowledged the commander as he ducked under the police tape.

"Pity we hadn't got that up earlier," she said, nodding to the flimsy barrier flapping in the wind. "There's nothing left here now that we don't already know about."

Vimes grimaced. "It's all right, Angua. I wasn't expecting the area to remain uncontaminated for long."

Vimes took a look around. The bloodstain on the ground was clear in his torchlight. But apart from manky curry cartons and used sonkies, there wasn't much else to see. He held up his torch. The window the witness had looked out of was still open. Apart from the poor light, there was no denying she had a clear view. But what had she actually seen...?

"Noakes _had_ been here earlier, sir," said Angua. "That much I can confirm."

Vimes nodded. "But he wasn't the only one, was he?"

"Hardly, sir. A whole army's been down here in the last hour."

"Including our killer..."

"Sir?"

Vimes crossed the alley and held up his torch. A rickety fire escape clung for dear life to the far wall. "Let's see... There's only one entrance into the alley. So, after the woman was killed, if no one saw the killer leave the alley, where did he go?" He nodded to the decrepit ladder. "Where does that lead, do you think?"

"To the roof, I expect, sir. But just look at the state of it, you'd have to be mad to leave by that route."

"Or desperate..."

"It's one hell of a climb, too," said Angua. "Whoever it was would have to be fit."

"Well, I think you'll agree Captain Noakes is no slouch?"

Angua followed his gaze. "You can't seriously want me to climb up _there_, sir?"

"No, I'll climb up... Once I know it's safe, I'll give you a hand."

Angua finally threw a leg over the last crumbling stage as Vimes hauled her in. It felt good to have her feet on something solid again.

"You know, we could have got someone else to come up here, sir," she said, brushing herself off.

"Yes, I know. But I wanted to take a look around myself..." Vimes walked among the chimney pots. It wouldn't be light for a good few hours yet, but he wanted to see the scene in the same light the killer had... Now, where would he go from here?

"Any chance of picking up a trail?" he asked.

"I could give it a try, sir."

"Do it."

Angua disappeared behind the chimneystacks. A moment later, she reappeared in wolf-form. Vimes collected her clothing for her, and was happy to see her pick up a trail almost as soon as she started. "Found something?"

Angua emitted a low growl.

Vimes felt oddly satisfied as he followed her. Her help was invaluable; he knew that. Without it, this task would be almost impossible. The place was a damn maze.

They'd covered quite some distance before Angua finally stopped. "Is that it?" said Vimes. "End of the trail?"

Angua snarled, and padded up to collect her clothes. She disappeared behind the chimneystacks again.

Vimes moved to the edge and walked around the perimeter. _Right, you bastard, where did you go_? It was a sheer drop almost all the way around. The roofs of nearby buildings didn't offer much of a foothold either. Unless...

"What do you think about that, Angua?" said Vimes, nodding into the night.

Angua returned, straightening her clothes. She followed Vimes' gaze.

"I think you're pulling my leg, sir."

"No, I'm dead serious."

"You'd be just plain _dead_ if you contemplated that jump, sir."

"Onto an almost flat roof?"

"Sir, I agreed Noakes is fit. I didn't say he could _fly_. Besides, where would he go from there? There's nowhere to... Sir...?"

Angua turned.

Vimes was back between the chimneystacks. He appeared to be pacing out a run-up. Suddenly he stopped, and slipped off his heavy cape...

"Sir! I can't allow you to—"

Vimes tucked in his elbows and flew straight past her. He sprang athletically from the ledge and sailed through the air... And rather less athletically, smacked chest-first into the opposite wall. With the air forced from his lungs, he scrabbled for a hold, miraculously finding enough strength to pull himself up.

Angua alighted gracefully beside him.

"Not quite as far as it looks, sir, is it?" she said.

"_No..._" Vimes rasped, nursing his aching ribs. "Right. Now that we know the killer made the jump... where to next?"

They looked around. There really was nowhere else to go.

"He obviously dropped down into the streets from here, sir," said Angua, leaning over the edge. "He picked the right spot, too. This has to be one of the busiest thoroughfares in the area."

"Damn. And you can bet your life he's gone underground. Hiding out in the sewers. Just like Carrot said he would."

"Well, that's a job for the dwarfs, sir."

"Already taken care of, Angua..."

"So, what's our next move, sir?"

"Well, I'd like to meet up with Carrot again. Hopefully, he's made some progress. I'd like you to go back to the yard."

"Okay, sir."

"But before you go, Angua. That trail you picked up... Any idea who it might've been?"

Angua gave him an odd look. "Yes, sir. It was Noakes."

-o0o-

Vimes couldn't easily explain the feeling in his gut as he set off to meet Carrot. What, exactly, was making him so sure Noakes wasn't the killer? The fact that he was a watchman? That didn't make sense. Anyone was capable of killing under the right conditions, he knew that. Hells, how many times had he fought his own Beast? So why was he still refusing to believe it?

Vimes met Carrot again on Contract Bridge.

"What have you managed to find out, Carrot?" he asked, as they made their way back to the Watch House.

"Well, the search for Captain Noakes is underway, sir. But so far, there's still no sign of him. We also know he hasn't been home."

"What else?"

"There appears to be no other witnesses, sir. Although, we are still looking."

"Any good news?"

"Cheery has confirmed stabbing as the cause of death, sir?"

"Gracious me_."_ Vimes spared Carrot the sideways look and quickened his step. "Well, we've got one witness at least. I _really_ want to talk to her."

"Ah. Bit of a problem there, sir..."

Vimes stopped. "_What_?"

"It appears she's gone into hiding, sir."

"_Hiding_? What in the hells_ for_?"

"Well, the killer _is_ still out there, sir. She seems to think he'll come back for her."

"Come back for—?" Vimes stared; he was too angry for words.

He stomped off. "_Great_!" he shouted, when he was halfway across the bridge. "How many _more_ people do I have to look for?"

-o0o-


	3. Chapter 3

**Who Watches the Watch**

**Chapter 3**

As Vimes drew nearer to the Watch House, he could see the crowd still hanging around outside. He groaned. They would want a statement of some sort. He wasn't in the mood for this. What in the hells was he going to tell them anyway, that he was working on a _hunch_?

But before he could say anything, Carrot was stepping forward. "Don't worry, sir," he said. "I'll handle this. I'll soon have them settled down."

"I'm relying on it, Carrot," said Vimes, breathing a sigh of relief. He branched off and headed towards the Watch House door. He weaved his way through the crowd, listening to the questions being fired at Carrot.

"Well, have you found the watchman yet?" asked a woman.

"No, not yet," said Carrot. "Our search is continuing."

"I suppose you are _looking_?" asked a man.

"Of course we are," said Carrot smoothly. "But the city is a big place, it may be some time before we locate him."

"I heard the victim was _ravished_ by that watchman!" said another woman.

"No, madam, that's completely untrue," said Carrot reassuringly. "The victim's clothing was undisturbed."

"Well, that proves it, then..." said a sly voice.

"Um, proves what?" asked Carrot, turning to face the speaker.

"That it was your watchman," said Walby Birkett. "We all know which way _he_ leans."

"Oh, good gods..." Vimes muttered, as he entered the Watch House and slammed the door.

Sergeant Colon was missing from his desk.

"Where's Fred?" Vimes snapped.

"Waiting in your office, sir..." said Nobby. "With a Mr. Fletcher."

"Mr. Fletcher?"

"That's right, sir. He came in earlier to identify his wife."

Vimes stared. "His wife? Oh gods... and you've left _Fred_ with him?"

"Well, Angua hasn't arrived yet—" But Vimes was already halfway up the stairs.

Vimes took a deep breath and tapped gently on his door. Colon appeared, and Vimes motioned him out.

"How is he?" he asked Colon quietly. "Has anyone told him what's happened?"

"We didn't need to tell him anything, sir," said Colon. "He heard word on the street. Oddly enough, he doesn't seem that upset about it. Said it didn't really surprise him."

"It didn't?"

Colon shook his head. "Said they were at odds with each other, sir. Apparently she often 'went off on one' and walked out; and at all hours too. Had a bit of a temper, he said, sir. Some nights she didn't even come home." Colon lowered his voice to a whisper. "Sounds a bit mental, if you ask me, sir..."

"Yes, Fred, thank you. But if you don't mind, I'll speak to him now."

"He's all yours, sir."

Vimes entered and lowered himself into his chair.

"It's all right, you can sit down again, Mr. Fletcher..."

"Thank you," said the man quietly. "And it's Harold, please."

"All right, Harold," said Vimes gently. "What can you tell me about your wife?"

"Well, that depends on what you want to know?"

"Well, anything you think might be able to help us? Anything you think is relevant?"

Harold sighed. "What's to tell? We moved to the city just over a year ago. That was Celia's idea. She wasn't happy in Scrote. It was far too quiet for her."

"Celia, that was your wife?"

"Yes. She liked attention, you see. Always enjoyed having lots of people around her."

"And you didn't?"

"No, I liked the quiet life. But Celia was happier here. I know she'd made lots of friends."

"What about enemies?"

"Oh no, quite the opposite. She was... well liked. You know."

Vimes nodded. "And where were you last night, Harold?" he asked smoothly.

"You don't suspect me, surely?"

Vimes smiled. "It's a routine question."

"Well, I was at home. Celia had another of her... episodes. She walked out again. I didn't follow her."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No, and I never asked. She could... get angry, commander. I assumed she went for a walk to calm down."

Vimes clasped his hands together and leaned on his desk. "Harold, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but do you think your wife was having an affair?"

Fletcher shrugged. "It's possible, I suppose."

"Do you know who the other man might have been?"

Fletcher gave him a sharp look. "I said it was possible, commander. I didn't say she _was_."

"No," said Vimes. "No, you didn't. I'm sorry."

There was an awkward silence.

Fletcher's gaze fell to his lap. "They say a watchman murdered my wife?" he asked quietly.

"That's what they say. Yes."

"But you don't believe it?"

"I find it... improbable."

"But not impossible?"

"No. It's not impossible."

"And if a watchman _did_ murder her?" said Fletcher, "What happens then?"

"He'll hang," said Vimes.

-o0o-

Carrot waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs. Suddenly Mr. Fletcher came out. He was still talking to Vimes, promising to contact him if he thought of anything else. Carrot waited until he had left, and then entered Vimes' office and closed the door firmly behind him.

"They're not happy, sir..." Carrot muttered.

"Who aren't?" said Vimes.

"The citizens, sir."

"Oh? And why not?"

"They think you're dragging your feet over this case, sir. On account of Noakes being a watchman."

"What? I'm doing all I can, for heaven's sake!"

"That's not what they think, sir," said Carrot, moving to the window. "They seem to think you're concentrating on looking for a killer who doesn't exist when you _ought_ to be trying to find Noakes. They're angry and confused, sir. Understandably," Carrot added.

"_Understand—!_ Carrot, I can't find a man who doesn't want to be found!"

"Nevertheless, sir. The citizens see Noakes as a danger."

"That's ridiculous, Carrot. And anyway, I _am_ trying to find him. He's the key to this whole damn thing! But I want to question him; not hang him. And if anyone thinks I'm going to stop looking for further evidence just because of what one woman said, then they're wrong! Because, yes, I _do_ think there's another killer out there, and I'm going to solve this _my_ way."

Carrot frowned. "I'm not sure that's what _they_ want to hear, sir..."

Vimes glanced towards the window. "It's that Walby Birkett, isn't it?" he growled. "He's out there, stirring them up?"

"Well, he's out there, sir. But he isn't actually _doing_ anything."

"Oh no. He _wouldn't_."

"He's just speaking the truth, sir."

Vimes clenched his jaw and dragged his notebook in front of him. "All right. If it's the truth they want, let's see exactly what we have, shall we?" He looked at the list, and read out:

Itym: A woman is dead.

Itym: _One_ witness said she saw Noakes do it.

Itym: Said witness has now disappeared.

Itym: Noakes is neither here to confirm nor deny it.

"Which means..." said Vimes, slapping the notebook on the desk, "that either I'm supposed to believe that Noakes is a murderer, or the witness is lying. And of the two, I know who _I_ trust."

"But supposing she _isn't_ lying, sir?"

"Then someone is trying to stitch Noakes up."

"No, I meant... supposing Noakes did murder her?"

Vimes snorted. "I can't believe that, Carrot."

"We've had bad watchmen before, sir?"

"We've had watchmen who've taken bribes, Carrot. We've never had a murderer."

"There's always a first time, sir?"

Vimes thumped his desk. "Damnit, Carrot! As far as I'm concerned Noakes has always been a good watchman, and I refuse to pass judgement on him until I have more evidence!"

"But we don't _have_ more evidence, sir."

"Then it all boils down to the same thing, Carrot! We need to _find_ him!"

-o0o-

Nobby had taken up his position by the Watch House window again.

"Why's the commander all upset about this case, Fred?"

"Dunno. I imagine it's because he thinks someone's trying to frame Noakes."

"Do _you_ think they are?"

"Job to tell, Nobby. Vimes has got to investigate this properly, obviously, but just because Noakes is one of us don't mean he's not a killer. See, Nobby, you never find out a person's _true_ nature until the chips are down."

"Chips, right..." Nobby puzzled this for a moment and then peered out the window again. "So you think he's capable of killing, then?"

"Who knows? Besides, this whole thing is starting to look bad for us, innit? What, a killer watchman and a commander who appears to be protecting him? How does _that_ look to that lot outside?"

Nobby _was_ looking. The crowd appeared bigger than it had earlier, and somehow more restless. In fact, it didn't look like your average crowd at all. It was beginning to look menacing. It had started to resemble... a _mob_.

"I'm telling you, Nobby," Colon went on. "Things don't look good for the Watch right now."

"No, Fred..." said Nobby, eyeing the crowd nervously, "Things don't look good for us, at _all_..."

-o0o-

Down in the sewers, a lone watchman stumbled ankle-deep through murky water. He stopped and looked around, as if searching out sounds other than his own, laboured breathing. Apparently hearing nothing, he waded to the wall, reaching for the slimy brickwork with a steadying hand. Clearly exhausted and shivering from the cold, he managed a few more steps, before falling to his knees, retching violently.

-o0o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Who Watches the Watch?**

**Chapter 4**

Dawn crept slowly over the edge of the city. More watchmen were returning from the search now, surprised to see the crowd was still there. Some of them had been standing around for hours, but no one looked like they were preparing to leave. The size of the crowd wasn't diminishing at all. If anything it was getting bigger, as more people were arriving, curious to see what was going on.

Inside the Watch House, the front office also buzzed with activity. Returning officers were writing up reports, exchanging stories and theories with those watchmen already in. It appeared Noakes had just vanished. And no one knew what they were going to do about it. They were painfully aware there weren't sufficient watchmen to cover the entire city. And even if there were, Noakes was a watchman himself; did they think they could outwit him? Noakes knew the city as well as any of them. If he didn't want to be found, they could be running around in circles all day. The man worked with Vimes, for heaven's sake. He wasn't daft.

The front door suddenly opened, and Angua came in. Hurrying past Colon's high desk she tuned in quickly to the general conversation. The gist of it was clear, and she found herself agreeing with them. But there was a reason _why_ she'd been delayed, and she thought the commander would want to hear about it...

She knocked on Vimes' door.

"Come in!" said Vimes.

"...and Corporal Hanson's report says much the same thing," said Carrot, as she entered. "There simply aren't enough... Oh, hello, Angua." He glanced at the clock. "A little late, aren't we?"

"Morning, Carrot," said Angua, pointedly. She turned to Vimes. "Sorry I'm late, sir. I was waylaid by some of the citizens on my way back."

"Are you all right?" said Vimes. And then, realizing how daft that sounded, changed it to, "I mean, they didn't give you any trouble, did they?"

"Oh no, sir. Quite the opposite. As a matter of fact, they just stopped me to say they had every faith in the Watch, sir, and that regarding this case, they were trusting them to do the right thing."

"They did?" said Vimes, looking slightly surprised. "And, er... is that it?"

"Oh no, sir. They also said—"

"Hold on," said Vimes. "Who said? I mean, who was it telling you this?"

"Quite a large number of the elderly citizens, sir. The ones less excitable than that lot outside, I imagine," she added. "And also those members of our community you might call 'less fortunate'."

Vimes nodded. "Go on..."

"Well, they also said that in their opinion Walby Birkett was nothing but a troublemaker, sir, and they didn't believe for one minute that that nice young captain had anything to do with this crime."

Vimes looked at Carrot, who enthused, "Well, that's encouraging, sir!"

"Yes, it is," said Vimes. "But unfortunately, it doesn't help us an awful lot..." He turned to Angua. "I don't suppose they had any more information for us?"

"Not unless you need to know how much Noakes gave to the beggars, sir, or how many little old ladies he helped across the street?" she hazarded.

Vimes shook his head. "No... I already know all that."

"You do?" said Carrot, genuinely impressed. "Gosh."

"So, we're none the wiser now than we were last night in the alley," Vimes sighed. "You know, I hate to admit this, but I'm beginning to think we're buggered."

"Well, maybe not, sir..." said Angua. "I haven't had chance yet to mention a smell I detected in the alley."

"Something important?" said Vimes.

"Well, I'm not sure, sir... It was something I couldn't quite make out. But it was similar to... sadness?"

"Is that significant?"

"Well, that would depend on who it came from, sir. But if it was Noakes, then it puts a whole different light on him being the murderer. And after what those other people said, well... I wondered if I might take another look at the scene, sir? Perhaps I missed something last night?"

"Absolutely!" said Vimes. "And I'll come with you. I'm willing to try anything that'll shed light on this matter."

"Will you be needing me, sir?" asked Carrot.

Vimes looked at Angua; Angua shook her head.

"Right," said Vimes. "Stay where you are, then, Carrot. Carry on looking through those reports. And contact me the moment you find anything that might give us a clue to Noakes' whereabouts. You'll know where to find me."

"I'll do that, sir."

When Vimes and Angua had gone, Carrot settled in at Vimes' desk. He pulled the in-tray towards him, and with a concentrated look, painstakingly began to study the ever-increasing reports.

Outside the open window, the rumble of the crowd increased noticeably as Vimes and Angua left the Watch House...

-o0o-

In the dull light of morning, the scene in the alley looked bleak. Vimes moved into the centre and turned slowly about. "Where was this smell you detected, Angua?" he asked.

Angua went straight to the bloodstain. "It was here, sir," she said, indicating the dark spot.

Vimes walked over and breathed in deeply, almost as if expecting to determine the odour for himself. "And it was similar to sadness, you say?"

"That's right, sir."

"Could it possibly have come from the victim?"

"It's possible, sir, but... well, I don't think it did. It kind of... lingered, sir, heavy on the air, like it came _after_ the victim was dead."

"So, Noakes, then?"

Angua nodded. "I'd say that's more likely, sir."

In the privacy of his head, Vimes agreed.

He turned towards the alley entrance and reflected for a moment. And then he turned back towards the fire escape. "And then he took off in _that_ direction for a reason..." he mused, nodding to the least likely choice of exit. He shook his head. "Damn, how in the hells am I supposed to figure this out, Angua?" he sighed.

"Maybe you won't have to, sir?"

"Meaning?"

"If Noakes isn't the killer, then maybe he'll come in on his own?"

"Do we really have time to wait for that, Angua?"

"Do we really have a choice, sir?"

-o0o-

Carrot was struggling to concentrate. The rumbling below the office window had turned into a racket. Closing the window was not an option because as well as trying to study the reports he was also trying to keep an eye on the crowd's mood. But he wasn't expected to do everything, surely? There was nothing preventing Sergeant Colon from going out there and asking them to keep the noise down.

Actually, there was...

Sergeant Colon was under his desk.

Nobby was hopping from foot to foot. "C'mon, Fred, your pen couldn't have rolled that far..." Nobby, it seemed, was also no longer interested in hogging the window position.

"'s all right, Nobby..." came a muffled voice. "I have it now."

"_We want to know what's happening_!" someone suddenly shouted outside.

"Oh, gods..." Nobby muttered, as Colon finally surfaced, "I _told_ you it was only a matter of time..."

"And I told _you_ we got nothin' to worry about, Nobby. As long as we're in here, we're perfectly safe."

"You'd better tell _them_ that, Fred."

"I shall do no such thing, Nobby. Only a bloody idiot would consider opening that—Hello, Captain Carrot!"

"Why haven't you gone out and spoken to them, sergeant?" asked Carrot. "How on earth am I supposed to concentrate upstairs?"

"Er..."

"_We demand justice_!"

"..._that's_ why, captain," said Colon sheepishly.

Carrot strode to the door, and opened it.

There was silence.

For a moment, anyway...

"_We want to know what's happening, Captain Carrot!_" shouted someone in the crowd.

"Yes. Of course you do," said Carrot, scanning the sea of faces for the speaker; there were so many of them. "Our inquiries are continuing," he said. "I can't give out details, for obvious reasons, but you can rest assured the commander is doing all he can."

"_To protect your watchman, no doubt?_" shouted someone else.

"Yes, I realize your concerns," said Carrot. "And they're our concerns, too. That's why the commander must be allowed to do his job."

"_That's the trouble, he ain't doin' it!_" shouted another voice.

Carrot shook his head. "Don't be silly. Now, for the moment, I think you all need to calm down and trust the Watch to—"

"_We're not sure we do trust 'em_!"

"_No, and we need protection_!"

"_Our city's not safe anymore_!"

Carrot held up a hand. "All right... I'm going to close the door now," he said. "Anyone still here causing a disturbance when I open it again will be charged with a breach of the peace. Do I make myself clear?"

A few mumbles were heard.

"Good," said Carrot. And closed the door.

The Watch House fell silent. Nobby and Colon watched, amazed, as Carrot crossed the room and climbed the stairs back to the office. He probably would have made it, too, if a stone hadn't come flying through the window.

"_No one is above the law_!" someone shouted through the break in the glass. "_Especially one of yours!_ _If you won't catch the watchman, then we'll do the job ourselves_!"

Carrot rushed downstairs and flung open the door. But the crowd were already scattering in all directions.

-o0o-

The feeble warmth of the sun was still trying to burn off the mist from the river when a bedraggled watchman emerged from the sewers. He straightened stiffly, and blinked, and after a moment of disorientation, found his bearings for the Watch House. He'd decided; it was time to come in. With his mind still whirring with past events he started down the street, and this dulled sense of alertness meant he was slow to notice the shouting in the distance.

Which was unfortunate, because it was heading his way...

-o0o-


	5. Chapter 5

**Who Watches the Watch?**

**Chapter 5**

Vimes paced the length of the alley. He appeared to be coming to a conclusion...

"Right," he said. "So we're both more or less decided on Noakes' innocence?"

"Yes, sir," said Angua. "I mean, apart from the fact that he ran, sir, it _is_ hard to believe otherwise."

"And we both also suspect he has vital information?"

Angua nodded. "Yes... that would follow."

Vimes agreed. "But supposing someone _else_ suspected that too?" he said, continuing to pace. "And supposing _that_ someone was the killer?" He turned to face her. "Wouldn't that someone be trying to prevent Noakes from telling us all he knows?"

Angua stared at him. "And _that's_ what caused him to run, you mean?"

"Isn't that a possibility?"

"Of course it is!" said Angua. "And it means one of those conflicting trails was most likely our killer."

"Didn't I teach you things were seldom as they seem, Angua?" said Vimes, reaching into his pocket for his notebook. He pulled out his dis-organizer. "Blast! I've left my notebook on my desk."

"Don't worry, sir. I know how to use one of those. I'll take notes, if you like?"

Vimes handed the device over. "So, all this means it's now _vital_ we find Noakes," he said. "Because if anything happens to him, we'll _never_ know the truth."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, sir," said Angua, lifting the lid of the dis-organizer. The little demon popped up its head. Just then, Corporal Hanson came skidding under the police tape and slid to a halt beside Vimes.

"_Bingeley-bingeley b_—"

Vimes slammed down the lid of the dis-organizer. "What is it, corporal?" he said. "New information?"

"No, sir! There's been an important development!" the corporal gasped. "We have troublemakers on the loose! They intend to catch Noakes themselves, sir! The gods only know what they'll do to him if they find him!"

"What, take the law into their own hands? They wouldn't _dare_!"

"I think they've already done that, sir!"

"Damn! What's Carrot doing?"

"Organizing a peace-keeping force of sorts, sir. But the crowd has split up. It's hard to keep track of them! Carrot said he'll do what he can and then meet up with you on Contract Bridge."

"Right! I'm already on my way! Angua, I want you with me!"

-o0o-

As Vimes and Angua made their way across Cheapside, people could already be seen on the other side of the river. They were spilling out of Butts Treat and scattering along the banks of the Ankh towards the bridges. Most were heading rimwards, towards Pon's Bridge, but others were heading their way, towards Contract Bridge. You couldn't call it a gang, it was mayhem; just people running about everywhere. There were watchmen among them, which was _mostly_ a good sign; it was hard to tell what they were actually _doing_, but at least they were making their presence known. Vimes knew that was important.

He stopped for a moment, and took stock.

So, everyone was heading for the Morpork side of the river, then? That meant they suspected Noakes was this side too. Damn it all, they were probably right. Noakes' last known position, according to Angua, had been the rooftops above Five Ways, and from there, down into the streets and probably into the sewers. This was certainly the side to be if anyone was aiming for concealment. The streets here were narrower than on the Ankh side, and contained any number of bolt-holes. And then there were the numerous alleyways, and the endless rooftop maze...

But just listen to the bloody racket they were kicking up! How stupid was _that_ if they were trying to track someone? It might warn Noakes of their presence, of course, which was a _good_ thing, but it might also work against the Watch. If Angua's assumption was correct, and Noakes was intending to come in, then the last thing they needed was the mob driving Noakes _away_. The Watch's job was going to be hard enough as it was!

Carrot arrived on the bridge looking pale. People continued to run past, completely heedless of him.

"What's the situation, Carrot?" said Vimes, as he and Angua joined up.

"I've got everyone we can spare on this, sir," said Carrot, as they all fell into step. "I've even pulled off the majority of the watchmen I had searching for our witness."

"Is that search still proving fruitless?" said Vimes.

"Yes, sir."

"Then forget it. Get everyone on this."

"Yes, sir."

"So who's the instigator of _this_, then, Carrot?"

"I don't think _anyone_ was, sir."

"Oh, there's always _someone_, Carrot..."

"As far as I could tell it started out as general complaining and grumbling, and then they just... erupted. I don't think Walby Birkett had anything to do with it."

"Funny how that name came to mind, though, eh, Carrot?"

"Yes, sir. But what are we going to _do_? There's barely enough watchmen to continue the search for Noakes, we can't control a mob as well!"

Vimes stopped.

"I think this could be our lucky break, Carrot..."

"_What_?"

"Just look at how many of them there are, compared to us."

"Yes, sir, it's a dangerous situation!"

"No... it's helpful."

"_Sir_?"

"I want you to go after them, Carrot."

"What, arrest them all?"

"No! Just follow them!"

"But_—_"

"Organize small teams. Spread out and assess where the threat is. I want runners. And get someone on the clacks so everyone's constantly updated. In all this excitement, it shouldn't be too hard to weed out the root of the trouble. It's hardly a covert operation they've planned here, is it? So we use them. We keep our ear to the ground, and sooner or later someone's bound to lead us to Noakes."

"But they intend to _hang_ him, sir!"

"So we stay on our toes! We keep our wits about us and intervene if it becomes necessary!"

"That's a hell of a risk you're taking, sir!" Carrot blurted.

"Do you have a better idea, Carrot?"

Carrot looked helplessly at Angua; Angua shrugged.

"Oh, I do hope you're right, sir..."

"So do I, Carrot. Now, look lively!"

Carrot headed off to carry out his orders.

When he'd gone, Vimes and Angua shared a look. "Do we stay together, sir?" she asked.

Vimes nodded. "That's right." He looked around. "Well, there's no denying he'll run now, Angua... so where do _we_ start?"

Vimes' arm shot out as a boy ran past. "What's happening up that way?" he demanded, indicating the direction the boy had come from.

"Nothing! They reckon he'll be hiding out by the docks!"

"Who will?"

"Whoever it is we're after!"

"You don't _know_?"

"No, and I ain't goin' to with you hangin' on to me! Look, I'm just followin' everyone else, okay?"

The boy struggled free, and Vimes let him go.

"Nice to see we're not neglecting the kids when it comes to mob mentality, eh?" said Vimes sourly.

-o0o-

Carrot quickly organized his teams of watchmen; he'd now got them into pairs in order to cover as much of the city as possible. Now he was back out in the streets himself appealing to the citizens' community spirit. Unsurprisingly, he'd managed to find people who were actually willing to keep the Watch informed of the mob's movements. Their motives were uncertain - undoubtedly they were just securing a decent spot from which to watch a potential lynching - but at least they were being unethical in an honest and _useful_ way. Commander Vimes would be proud of them.

Others were beginning to line the streets, happy just to watch, street entertainment didn't get much better than this, and it wasn't costing them a penny.

And among those watching, virtually unnoticed by anyone, was someone who wasn't entirely guiltless. He watched for a few moments longer and then slipped away. He'd already seen all _he_ wanted to see...

-o0o-

Sergeant Colon sat at his desk with a military bearing; this wasn't out of a sense of duty so much as in the hope that no one would notice him. His eyes hadn't left the front door. He was still a little jittery, despite the fact the crowd outside had dissipated. He didn't like the way the wind was whistling through the hastily boarded-up window, for a start. But at least the Watch House stove was blazing nicely, and Nobby had begun to make the tea.

Colon relaxed a little.

For almost four minutes, in fact.

And then came a moment out of his worst nightmare...

The front door opened. And _he'd_ been left in charge.

-o0o-


	6. Chapter 6

**Who Watches the Watch?**

**Chapter 6**

Vimes and Angua emerged from Cable Street and began making strides along Treacle Mine Road.

"You really think the docks are a possibility, sir?" said Angua.

"Could be..." said Vimes. "Don't the sewers spill out along there somewhere?"

"Yes, sir, along with numerous other places. Those are only the approved sites, of course."

"Then the least we can do is check it out."

"Okay, but I don't think my nose is going to be much help."

"I'm hoping it won't need to be."

As they headed towards Misbegot Bridge, there was more activity than Vimes had expected. At first, it looked like total confusion, but as they neared, Carrot's reassuring form could be seen in the distance, towering above everyone else, his arms a blur as he assigned tasks left, right and centre. Vimes was amazed. Citizens were actually falling over themselves to help him. Good old Captain Carrot, eh?

They headed towards him.

"Ah, sir!" said Carrot, as they got nearer. "I have all the bridges covered now, so if Noakes tries to make it to the Watch House, we'll know the moment he sets foot on the Isle of Gods. I've also deployed people along Phedre Road, just in case he tries to come in over The Cut."

"And if he's not intending to come in at all?" said Vimes, trying not to sound cynical. "Supposing he just decides to leg it?"

"He won't get out of the city, sir. We've had watchmen on the gates all night, and no one's seen hair nor hide of him. That means he's still _somewhere_ inside the walls."

Vimes nodded. "That's good work, Carrot. Well done."

Vimes paused for a moment, and tried to get inside Noakes' head. What would he be thinking now? Noakes was a patient and intelligent watchman. He wasn't prone to acting rashly. The mob might run blindly, but Noakes wouldn't. Oh, he'd run from the alley, true enough, but what he'd acted on then was probably pure survival instinct. By now, if he'd had chance to get his head together, he'd want to talk, wouldn't he? The mob weren't going to give him that chance. Just _look_ at them! All they wanted to do was put a rope round his neck. Gods, they were keyed up _now_, what in the hells would they be like by the time they caught up with him?

"There's nowhere for him to run, sir," Carrot was saying. "The noose is tightening..."

"Nice metaphor, Carrot." Vimes stared at the crowd. They're actually _enjoying_ this, he thought. The _thrill_ of the hunt. And we're _helping_ to trap him...

It suddenly dawned on Vimes just how much danger Noakes was in...

"Just make sure we stay on top of this, Carrot, eh?" he said quietly. "You know we need to get to him first, don't you?"

"Of course, sir."

Suddenly, a watchman ran up to them, waving a piece of paper.

"Message from the Watch House, sir!" he said. "Fresh off the clacks!"

Vimes took it, and read it quickly.

He looked shocked.

"Something important, sir?" said Angua, noting Vimes' strange expression.

"I'm wanted back at the Watch House," said Vimes, staring at her. "Apparently, we have a new witness..."

-o0o-

Vimes and Angua practically flew through the Watch House door.

"He came in just a moment ago, sir..." said Colon, climbing down from his high desk. "He'd been—"

"Where is he?" Vimes demanded.

"Over here, mister Vimes..."

Vimes turned.

"_Frankie_?"

An old beggar was huddled in a threadbare overcoat, hunkered down by the Watch House stove. He was shivering, despite the fact the fire was blazing fiercely. Someone had thoughtfully given him a cup of tea.

"Frankie Arnold?" said Vimes, moving towards him.

"That's right, mister Vimes..."

"Hold on," said Angua. "Didn't I speak to you earlier? Weren't you the one telling me about how Captain Noakes had been good to you and the other beggars?"

"That's right, miss."

"So, you have something new to tell us?" said Vimes.

"Not... _new_, exactly," said the beggar awkwardly. "See, I didn't come forward before because, well, I was a bit worried..."

"It's all right, Frankie," said Vimes. "You're safe in the Watch House. So, you have something to tell us?"

The beggar nodded. "See, what I told the young miss here earlier, well... I thought that would be enough."

"Enough for what?" said Vimes.

"To put you in the _picture_..." said the beggar, meaningfully. "About that nice watchman of yours..."

"Frankie, you're not making much sense," said Vimes. "Just tell me, have you heard something?"

"No, mister Vimes, I seen it. Seen it with me own eyes."

Vimes stared. "Frankie, you're _blind_!"

The beggar looked pained. "Partially sighted, mister Vimes... See, that's why I was worried... on account of, well... it's me _livelihood_..."

"Your livelihood?" Vimes growled; he shrugged Angua's hand off as she touched his shoulder. "You were worried about your _livelihood_ when there's a man's _life_ at stake?"

"Well, _I_ didn't know a mob was going to form, did I?" the beggar wailed. "It's all got out of hand since I spoke to the young miss! Look, do you want to hear what I got to say, or don't you?"

"Oh, you _bet_ I do, Frankie..."

"Alright, then... well, I was on me usual patch..." The beggar was looking at Angua now; he'd deemed Vimes' face far too terrifying. "That's along Heroes Street... It was getting late, and I was thinking about calling it a day, but I knew that nice watchman of yours would be along soon, so I hung around a bit longer. He lives with that friend of his just round the corner in Short Street, you know."

"Yes, Frankie. We know where he lives," said Vimes.

"Well, sure enough, along he comes. He gives me a few coins like he always does, and then goes on his way. And then this couple appeared; I only got a glimpse of the woman, and they disappeared down an alley. Your watchman didn't take no notice of them. But then this woman, she screamed, _ghastly_ it was! Your watchman ran back, naturally, and he disappeared down the alley, too. Next thing I know, the man comes running out, there's another scream, but the man's legging it down the street by now! I waited for your watchman to start chasing him, but he never did! He never come out at all! Well, I wasn't sure _what_ was going on. But I wasn't supposed to be able to see any of this. So what could _I_ do?"

"What did you do, Frankie?"

"Well, there was no one else around, so as I passed the alley I took a peek. I could see that woman lying dead, but your watchman was nowhere to be seen! For a moment there, I wondered about him. But then I thought, no, I _know_ he's a good man, if he left by another way, then he must have had a good reason to. It's best I let the Watch sort this out, I thought. I mean, I didn't think anyone was going to think he _did_ it..." The beggar looked from Angua to Vimes wretchedly. "I thought you would've had it all worked out by now, see... thought this case would be solved... I didn't know I was going to be the only one who saw someone running from the alley, _did_ I...?"

"Well, I'm glad you finally decided to come forward, Frankie," said Vimes at last. "But none of this is going to be much help unless we get a _name_."

"Oh, I got a name for you, mister Vimes..." said the beggar. "Ainsley Quent."

-o0o-

Vimes' feet hardly touched the street as he and Angua ran down Welcome Soap.

"You _know_ Ainsley Quent, sir?" said Angua, struggling to keep up with him.

"Know _of_ him," said Vimes. "Has a bit of an eye for the ladies, apparently. _Any_ lady, that is. He gets them, too, smarmy bastard. Sounds like he's been adding to his repertoire. Only this time, he's in _deep_ cacky!"

"Lucky for us Nobby knew where he lived, but you're not expecting him to be _home_, are you, sir?"

"He'd bloody well _better_ be..." Vimes growled. "Anyway, why shouldn't he be? No one suspects him, do they? And as far as he knows, no one knows he was down the alley."

"So he thinks he's well out of it, then?"

"So he thinks. But he's in for a shock, Angua. Do you still have my dis-organizer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Because I want you to record every damn word of this conversation with Mr. Quent, do you hear?"

"Oh, _perfectly_, sir..."

-o0o-


	7. Chapter 7

**Who Watches the Watch?**

**Chapter 7**

Noakes lay flat on the roof of the Timber Warehouse. His mind was reeling. Below him, charging through the streets baying for his blood was what looked like a mob. And among them were... _watchmen_? He blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. But it was obvious – the Watch had half of Ankh-Morpork hunting him down! He rolled onto his back and stared at the heavens. Gods, is that how he was viewed now, as a _fugitive_? But... Commander Vimes had allowed _this_? His own Watch Commander had betrayed him to a _mob_?

He plucked at his badge, looking confused, and then got up and staggered away... over the rooftops and in the opposite direction to the Watch House.

-o0o-

Carrot and his team now covered the entire length of Treacle Mine Road. He'd also got a second team moving down The Scours. His plan had been carefully considered. After covering almost the entire city, all that was now left between Noakes' last known position and the place he was supposedly last seen was The Shades. Carrot was quietly confident. That's where the net would close...

-o0o-

Vimes and Angua emerged from Ainsley Quent's flat. Vimes looked anxious.

"You'll have to escort Mr. Quent back to the Yard, Angua," he said, maintaining a vice-like grip on his dis-organizer. "You realize now that it's imperative I catch up with Carrot?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure you'll be all right with that?"

"Of course, sir."

Vimes looked grim. "I really thought we'd found our killer, Angua..."

"Yes, sir. So did I."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"Yes, sir... It means if you don't hurry we're going to find ourselves short of a Watch Captain..."

-o0o-

Carrot had reached the Whore Pits. He was now spearheading his team in a mammoth sweep across The Shades.

Ahead of Carrot, heartsick and confused, was the man he was so desperate to find.

And behind Carrot, because Carrot now had a better handle on things than he did himself, was Walby Birkett...

-o0o-

Vimes got as far as Treacle Mine Road, and then grabbed a runner. "Where's Captain Carrot?" he barked. "I need his exact location! _Now_!"

"Organizing a sweep down The Shades, sir! They've just passed the Whore Pits!"

"Right! Run on ahead of me! Tell him Commander Vimes has new information, and he's coming to join him! Got that?

"Yessir!"

"Off you go, then! Quick as you can!"

-o0o-

Carrot was nearing Shamlegger Street when a corporal came running up to him.

"Captain Carrot, sir! I think you should see this!" The corporal was waving something about excitedly.

"What is it?" said Carrot, taking it from him. He looked troubled; it was a watchman's badge.

"Where did you find this?" said Carrot.

"End of Shamlegger's, sir!"

"How long ago?"

"Not long, sir! I've just come up from there!"

"Who else is down there?"

"Only Ron and me, and half a dozen volunteers."

"Good. Go back there now. I'm bringing down more men."

"It's his, sir, isn't it?" said the corporal excitedly. "Captain Noakes? I recognize the number!"

"Yes, it is. Now get moving, and keep your voice down..."

Carrot watched him go and then moved off himself to sight himself up with the nearest clacks tower.

The minute he'd gone, Walby Birkett detached himself from the wall. His face split into a grin.

"This way, lads..." he whispered.

-o0o-

Vimes had just reached Shamlegger's himself, when the runner he'd sent off to Carrot returned to him.

"Reply from Captain Carrot, sir!" the runner gasped. "He says please hurry! Captain Noakes has been spotted, sir, and Walby and his gang are there! Carrot's not sure how long he can hold them off!"

Damn, damn, _damn_! Vimes thought. You _must_ hold them off, Carrot!

"Where are they?" Vimes demanded.

"The Buttermarket, sir!"

"Right! Tell him I'm on my way!"

Vimes ran for the Buttermarket as if in a dream... and as if to remind him of his urgency, Ainsley Quent's nasal whine began replaying itself in his head...

"..._Celia Fletcher was an attractive woman, commander. I was hardly complaining when she came on to me like she did..."_

"_I see. And you thought the perfect place to entertain her was down an alley, did you?"_

"_No... It was just one of the many places we ended up. She was rather... adventurous, commander. Really, I'd never known anyone quite like her. I found it all a bit... exciting, you know?"_

"_No_. _Sorry, Mr. Quent, I can't say that I do."_

"_Well, anyway, it was fun for a while._ She _was fun. But when I tried to break it off... oh,_ then _I saw a change."_

"_What sort of a change?"_

"_My gods, she turned into a harpy! There was no more sweetness then. I attempted to smooth it over, said I'd reconsider our relationship, and for a while, I thought she seemed fine."_

"_She wasn't, obviously?"_

"_No, she_ _became more and more demanding; almost as if she was testing me. Eventually, it reached a point where I just wanted to end it. It just wasn't enjoyable any more. It was her idea to go down the alley again. Really, I don't know why I agreed, but she was so insistent."_

"_Is that why you were carrying a knife?"_

"_I'm sorry?_

"_You were carrying a knife when you entered the alley. Is that the reason why?"_

"_I'm sorry, commander, I think you've misunderstood. It was Celia who produced the knife."_

"_Are you saying she was intending to kill you?"_

"_Oh no, commander. That wasn't her intention, at_ all."

Vimes reached the Buttermarket. Noakes could be seen on top of the main building. He was surrounded and perilously close to the edge. Carrot could be seen at the head of the mob, his arms outstretched, trying to hold back Walby Birkett. Below, the streets were congested. Market traders were stopping to watch, parking their carts just anywhere. "What in the hells are you playing at?" Vimes yelled at them. "Get those damn carts out of the road! Park them over there!" Vimes pushed his way through the crowd, searching for the way up. _Damnit_! he thought, _I've only got one chance at this and it's slipping away_! Then he spotted the fire escape, and ran for it like hell.

-o0o-

Back on the roof, Carrot had managed to calm things down _just_ a little...

"It's all right, Noakes..." he said. "No one's going to hurt you. We just want to talk... Now, you've never lied to me before, have you?"

"No..." Noakes quavered.

"So tell me the truth now, Noakes. Who killed that woman?"

"I-I did..."

"I _told_ you that!" Edna Winslow screamed, suddenly stepping out from behind Walby Birkett. "I _saw_ him!"

"_I know what she saw_!" Vimes yelled, pushing his way through them.

"We _all_ know what she saw, commander!" said Walby Birkett; full of himself now, stepping out in front of Vimes as though Vimes had just interrupted _his_ investigation. "And we all know if it wasn't for _me_, the killer might never have been found!" He grinned and turned to the crowd, looking for all the world as if he was expecting a round of applause.

Noakes moved like lightning.

"Stay back!" he said, pressing a blade to Walby's throat.

Walby's Adam's apple bobbed.

Well, you asked for that, Walby... Vimes thought.

He took a step forward.

A wet patch blossomed on the front of Walby's trousers.

Oh,_ this_ was a moment to savour...

Vimes casually took out a Pantweed's slim panetella and stuck it between his teeth. "You should be careful with that knife, Noakes," he said, patting his pockets for a match. "One careless slip, and it could be 'Goodnight Walby'. And that would be a shame, because Walby here has been invaluable in helping me to hunt you down." Vimes lit his cigar and took a deep, satisfying draw. "See, this lynch mob here was all Walby's idea, wasn't it, Walby? And you know something, Noakes? Supposing you were to just... _carelessly_ slit his throat, well, I wouldn't even be able to punish you for it. Because everyone knows a man can't hang twice..." He smiled beatifically.

Noakes looked disgusted. He threw down the knife, and jumped.

Everyone ran to the edge.

Walby was left standing like a statue.

"How did you know he wouldn't kill me...?" he croaked, as Vimes strolled towards him in a cloud of cigar smoke.

"I didn't," said Vimes.

"You're kidding... _right_?"

"Nope."

"You mean I might have actually been _killed_?"

"If he'd been a bad man, yes. But I've always tried to discourage that sort of thing in the Watch, Walby. You see, we've never _yet_ had a killer watchman. And we _still_ don't."

"But he said—"

"I know what he said, Walby. And I have it all here..." Vimes waved the dis-organizer at him. "The _truth_."

"So, what just happened to him...?"

"He'll be in our safekeeping, and he'll get a fair trial. Like he deserves."

"It's all right, commander!" Carrot called out. "It looks as though Captain Noakes has been safely gathered up!"

Vimes acknowledged him with a nod, and then turned back to Walby. "And now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Birkett, I have an investigation to wrap up. I'm sure you won't mind my officers accompanying you back to the Yard?"

Vimes turned to the crowd. "All right, everyone! Show's over! Get back to whatever it was you were doing!"

"Gosh, that was lucky, sir!" said Carrot, falling in beside him.

"What, Noakes not killing Walby? Hardly."

"No, sir!" said Carrot. "I meant the way those carts down there were just parked like that!"

-o0o-

Back at the Watch House, Vimes and Angua were playing back the remainder of the dis-organizer recording for the benefit of Carrot...

"_...So, just what_ was _Celia's intention, Mr. Quent?"_

"_She said I was going to have to live with the consequences of my actions."_

"_And you knew what she meant by that?"_

"_At the time, no. But now, it's obvious!"_

"_It is?"_

"_Of course it is! The woman was unhinged! She was capable of anything!"_

"_Even so_, _I'd rather I heard it in your own words, Mr. Quent..."_

"_All right. She said she was never going to be left_ _alone, and I'd pay for trying to abandon_ _her!_ _Well, I didn't stop to think, I just snatched the knife away. My gods, how she screamed! Before I knew it, a watchman was disarming me. He pushed me aside, and for some stupid reason I thought Celia was going to run off. But no, she went mad then - flew at him like a banshee! They fell against the wall, struggling for the knife, and I left them to it. I just ran off. It was only later, when that woman screamed 'Murder!', that I realized what Celia had been intending. And to think _I _could have been framed for that!"_

"_You could have told someone this. Why didn't you?"_

"_Isn't that obvious, commander? I wasn't supposed to be there! Celia was someone else's wife!"_

"_That didn't seem to bother you when you started your affair."_

"_Oh, don't look at me like that, commander! That was different. Anyway, what was there to gain by telling anyone? No one knew about us, and I didn't know how I was going to end it, so... let's just say I didn't exactly mourn her passing."_

"_You cold bastard."_

"_Are you allowed to talk to me like that? Is he allowed to talk to me like that, miss? And anyway, I don't suppose you can charge me with being a cold bastard, can you?"_

"_I won't need to. I'll think of something better...!"_

Vimes closed the lid of the dis-organizer...

"I don't think it's necessary for you to hear the rest, Carrot..." he said, retrieving his dis-organizer from Angua. "So, Celia Fletcher accomplished half of what she'd set out to do," he continued. "Except it was poor Noakes who was holding the knife when she did it. Noakes was just trying to restrain her; that's what Edna Winslow witnessed as her 'unwillingness'. But Celia wasn't trying to push the knife away; she was trying to draw it nearer. It was easy for her then. I don't think Noakes even realized what had happened..."

"But Noakes knew Ainsley was in the alley..." said Carrot. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"Because by now Noakes was running for his life. And what would he say? Ainsley wasn't guilty of anything. As far as Noakes knew, _he'd_ killed the woman."

"Gods, the torment he must have been in," said Angua. "Oh... and that badge Carrot picked up, sir? It was covered in the same smell as the smell I detected in the alley. Only much, much stronger..."

"You mean the sadness?" said Vimes.

"Yes... but it wasn't sadness, at all," said Angua. "It was sorrow. Noakes didn't drop his badge, he _threw_ it away."

"No!" said Carrot. "Noakes loved his badge!"

"Yes..." said Angua; and shook her head. "And to think we were expecting him to come in."

"I think he was," said Vimes. "Why else risk leaving the relative safety of the sewers? But one look at us lot hunting him down must have put the fear of the gods into him. Poor bastard."

"At least you taught Walby Birkett a lesson, sir," said Carrot.

"Well, I hope so," said Vimes.

"But _you_ were sure of Noakes' innocence even before all this, weren't you, sir?" said Angua. "And yet, even on the roof, you couldn't have been _certain_, could you?"

"I was as certain as I was ever going to be, Angua. And in the end, Noakes himself proved it."

"I don't understand..."

Vimes looked thoughtful. "What's that saying Sergeant Colon's fond of?" he said.

"I know, sir!" said Carrot. "'Bugger this for a game of soldiers'?"

"No, that's Nobby's favourite, Carrot."

"I think _I_ know, sir..." said Angua. "'You never find out a person's _true_ nature until the chips are down'?"

"Yeah..." said Vimes, nodding. "That's the one."

-o0o-

Downstairs, Nobby and Colon were happily returning to more _routine_ police procedures...

Nobby was pouring the tea while Colon doled out the biscuits.

"This is more like it, eh, Nobby?" said Colon. "A bit of _normalcy_?"

"Yeah..." said Nobby, who didn't exactly feel qualified to comment on any condition beginning with the word 'normal'.

Two mugs of tea were picked up and thoughtfully sipped.

"You know, I can't say I've ever been _keen_ on excitement, Nobby," Colon mused.

"I can't say I've ever been offered any, Fred..."

Two biscuits were ritually dunked.

"But I'll tell you something, Nobby. I'm _glad_ I was wrong about Noakes."

"Yeah, so am I, Fred," said Nobby, brightening up. "'Cos that's five dollars you owe me..."

-o0o-

The End.

A/n: Well, that's it. I hope it entertained you for a while. I am planning another story, if anyone's interested. Reader enjoyment is my only incentive to post, so please let me know what you thought of this one (without spoiling the ending for others, please!)

And now, to everyone who's read this story: Thank you. Your time is appreciated more than you'll ever know.

To those who reviewed: **VimesLady**, **Matroushka**, **Failed Redemption**, **ihadanepiphany**, **Mad Possum**, **jingle360**, and **Rambina**, I dedicate this fic to you.

Thank you, one and all. I couldn't have done it without you.


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